


Seems Like Old Times

by Savageandwise



Series: Drabbles: We Will Never Be Here Again [14]
Category: Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mclennon fanfiction, mccartney family antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 06:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18219245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageandwise/pseuds/Savageandwise
Summary: Paul gets ready to see John in L.A. 1974.





	Seems Like Old Times

**Author's Note:**

> The word of the day was reminisce.

It could go either way, Paul figured. On a bad day John could be silent and sullen. On a good one, warm, loquacious, generous. He was almost more afraid of a good day. On a bad day he could forget they had ever been friends. That they had ever been as close as two humans could be. On a good day Paul wanted to turn his whole life upside down just to bask in the sunshine of John's attention. It had always been that way. There was no reason to think anything had changed in the last couple of years.

“Are we leaving now?” Mary grumbled. “I'm bored.”

“Dad's not finished putting on his makeup,” Linda said, sitting down in an armchair and lighting a joint. 

Stella giggled and climbed up her leg like a squirrel. Linda blew the smoke away from her. He wasn't putting on makeup. He was agonising over which shirt to wear. John looked so stylish in all the newspapers these days.

“Babe, it's just John. The man who spent all of ‘69 in that white suit. He's not even going to look at your shirt.” 

Paul ignored her, peeled off the garment and pulled on the next option. He'd grown slightly paunchy around the middle. John looked so sleek and satisfied. So handsome. Hard to believe he was killing himself with his excessive lifestyle. He'd never looked better.

“Paul! Pick one. Or we're leaving without you,” Linda called out. The joint was hanging from her lip as she scraped Stella’s hair into a French plait. “Mary! Go get Heather! Now!” 

Paul buttoned his shirt and slid his feet into shoes. He looked, he supposed, scruffily attractive. Heather slunk in pulling down her skirt self consciously.

“You and Heather,” Linda scoffed goodnaturedly. “Still under his spell.”


End file.
